


Yang Xiao Long and the Roaring Twenties

by LostinKansas93



Category: RWBY
Genre: AU, Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties, Bumbleby - Freeform, Emotional Hurt, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Music AU, Theres comfort, but its a long ways off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2020-10-05 02:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20481194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostinKansas93/pseuds/LostinKansas93
Summary: In one year, Yang Xiao Long lost her mother, her unborn daughter, and her wife. This is what happens after that.Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties AU for RWBY. For those of you who don't know who Aaron West is I'm not gonna lie to you, shit's gonna get real sad real fast.





	1. Act I: We Don't Have Each Other. Chapter One: Our Apartment

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so maybe it's not a great idea to have three fics running at once coming off a long hiatus, but It's my comeback and I'll flounder if I want to. 
> 
> First off, I'll be doing a chapter per song and will be doing every song. I obviously highly encourage everyone to listen to the band if you haven't already, but if you follow along let me know :). 
> 
> Second, there will be some very dark chapters and I will provide content warnings for those specific chapters in the notes at the beginning. 
> 
> ENJOY THE PAIN

Act I: We Don't Have Each Other  
Chapter 1: Our Apartment 

Yang let out a shaky breathe backstage. She wasn't even sure why she was here. Her dad encouraged her to go out to this open mic. Said her songs were good. Yang turned around to leave. Opening up to the crowd about emotions and times in her life this personal was too hard. It was fine when she was just writing to cope, performing was a different story. No one wanted to hear originals at open mics anyways, especially not in Jersey.

Out of the corner of her eye, Yang caught a glimpse of one of her coworkers. A messy top of blonde hair on a skinny frame that belonged to Jaune. He was a good kid. Yang smirked and faced the stage again as someone making an admirable attempt at stand-up finished their set. A few people applauded and the MC went up and announced her on. Yang could hear Jaune and a few others clapping. She took a deep breathe and walked on stage.  
“Hey everyone. I'm Yang Xiao Long. This song's called 'Our Apartment' and it's an original.” 

Yang woke up to her back hurting again. She rolled off the couch and walked into the kitchen to try and find breakfast. 'Maybe I can just buy a new mattress and that will help. Sleeping on this couch is gonna kill me if I keep this up.' Yang wished she could just sleep in her and Blake's bed, but it was too painful. It smelled too much like Blake. Yang kept falling into the grooves they made and feeling cold and hollow without a second body to fill the space. Without Blake's body. 

After waking up with a cup of coffee, Yang took a shower. She needed to stop thinking about her. Blake just needed time, then she would be back and they could figure their lives out again. Sun had texted yesterday and said he wanted to get lunch, so maybe they could talk and then Sun would talk to Blake and convince her to come back home. Yang made sure her phone was fully charged before going out, just so she could be available if Blake called. 

“I'm sorry, Yang.” Sun had that look on his face, the one he gets whenever he has to bring someone pain, not joy. “Blake's been talking with her lawyer. I think this is it.” Of course Sun wouldn't help her. He was basically Blake's brother. They grew up together and her parents loved him. Of course, Blake's parents also loved Yang. According to Sun, they still did. 

“So she's really gone. She's not coming back.” Yang said with a blank stare into the middle distance. 

“Again, I'm really sorry Yang. We all still love you. Even Blake still loves you to some degree. She asked me to come talk to you today cause she can't bear to do it herself. It's been a hard year for her too.” Yang knew it was. It was a hard year for both of them. Yang started to shut down again as she finished her sandwhich. 

“Well Sun, thanks for lunch. And thanks for telling me. It means a lot to me that you came and did this.” 

“No problem, Yang. Hang in there, okay?” 

“Yeah Sun, you too.” Yang gave him a lazy wave as she left the diner and headed back to their apartment. 

Yang was reading the note again. Maybe it had some clue, something in it that Yang could use to try and make Blake come home again, or at least just talk to her. It's like the words changed overnight. Where it once sounded like Blake would be coming home soon, all Yang could see were signs Blake wasn't coming back. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Yang checked her phone. No messages. Yang started replaying their last argument in her head. 

“Yang! Are you actually paying attention?” Blake was angry again. She seemed to be angry a lot these days. Yang turned off the Bills game and got up from the couch. 

“Yes sweetheart. Of course I am. You know I love you.” 

“Then tell me what I was talking to you about?!” Yang was stumped. She couldn't even remember much of today. She knew the Bill's played and that she needed beer, but couldn't even remember what her wife was talking to her about. Yang tried to stammer out a response. 

“Stop. Just, stop Yang. I'm tired of the excuses. You just go to work, watch football, and float through the rest of the day. It's like you're not even here.” 

“I'm sorry Blakey. I promise, I'm here from now on.” 

“Are you?” Blake had a tired, pleading look on her face. Yang couldn't look her in the eye. Yang knew if she looked Blake in the eyes, it would all come out. 

“We already lost so much. I can't lose you too Yang.” Blake walked to their bedroom and slammed the door. When Yang got home the next day. She was gone, leaving only a note on the kitchen table. 

Yang let out a scream and punched the wall, clutching the note in her other hand. It had been two weeks. Yang hit the wall again, this time making a hole in the drywall. Two weeks, and no call from Blake. Yang walked over to the freezer to get some ice for her swelling hand and stepped on a hairpin. 

“Fuck!” Yang's phone dropped out of her hand and landed on the floor. Yang scrambled to pick it up. It looked okay, except for the crack on the screen. Yang checked her messages again, swearing that she felt a buzz and maybe that's why she dropped it. No new messages. Yang screamed again and threw her phone against the brick wall on the other side of their Brooklyn apartment, watching as the pieces fell onto the hardwood. 

Yang felt herself begin to go numb as she realized she cut her hand on the broken phone screen when she threw it and was bleeding on her clothes. Yang took off her bloodied clothes and put them in the wash, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and washed off the cut in the shower.


	2. Grapefruit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no see. It's been a rough couple months, but hopefully I'll be posting more regularly. I've got lots of drafts in the work, I just need to get them finished and posted. I'll try to update at least one story a week, but we'll see. 
> 
> As always, Kudos and comments are appreciated and you can tip me at https://www.ko-fi.com/lostinkansas93

Chapter 2: Grapefruit

_“Hey Holy Ghost, why'd you leave me? Where'd you go?”_

Yang woke up on the couch, her stirring knocking an empty bottle to the floor. It clattered and started rolling across the room. As her eyes opened, Yang was met with images of Blake and her family. Yang had been looking at old pictures before she passed out the night before. She was glad Blake made her keep physical photo albums. They came in handy after Yang broke her phone. She closed the albums and set them on the floor, easing herself off the couch and heading to the bathroom. 

As Yang flicked the light on, she saw her haggard reflection staring back through the mirror. Yang used the toilet, washed her face, and got out of there, heading for the fridge to find another beer. Cracking it open, she stopped and looked at the crucifix hanging on the wall. Yang didn't consider herself particularly religious, but old habits died hard. She took a long drink and made her way back to the couch. 

Yang stumbled and tripped, kicking the photo album across the floor. Yang fell with it, spilling some of her beer on herself. Yang sat up, frustrated at her clumsiness and was prepared to scream at her beer, needing something to take the rage out on, until she saw a few photo's that had come loose out of the album. She set the beer on the coffee table and gathered the photographs. A picture of Blake and Yang smiling was on the top. They were on their honeymoon, and a nice waitress had taken the photo for them. Yang remembered that night. 

“Oh would you lighten up?” Blake chided Yang. Yang was still upset about losing the pickup beach volleyball game they had played that afternoon. “It's our honeymoon, babe. We're here to have fun. You only need to worry about me, and I'm happy just being here with you. Blake gave Yang a warm smile and put her arms around her as they walked into the seafood place off the boardwalk. 

Yang let out a sigh and put her arm around her wife, pulling her close. “You're right, love. I'm sorry. It was just a game. Can I make it up to you?” Yang asked, lavender eyes shining hopefully into amber ones. 

“Mmmmm buy me dessert.” Blake replied as the host took them to their table. 

“Of course.” Yang replied, smiling from ear to ear, joyful over having the love of her life smiling back at her from across the table. 

A tear fell on to the photograph as Yang wiped her eyes. She put the pictures back into the album and started mopping up the spilled beer. 

Yang wandered through the apartment drunkenly, the nearby bodega having kept her well stocked, as well as a few trips to pick up hard liquor. She found herself in a brightly colored room, pink and orange, like a grapefruit. It looked like a normal office, save for a crib still setup in the corner. Yang let out a big sigh and walked over to it, looking down as if she would see a child. Her child. But her daughter never came. 

Blake gave Yang the news a few weeks after Summer died. It was the happiest Yang had been in months. The couple immediately started nesting, painting the office, preparing for the arrival of their daughter. Yang had purpose again, able to see the light after her mother's passing. They kept diligent in their preparations for months, Yang making sure Blake was well cared for and that everything would be ready.

Everything changed at a doctor's appointment. The pregnancy had been fairly easy, so neither Blake or Yang were concerned. The two were shocked when the doctor told them about the miscarriage. Yang's eyes glazed over as Blake's hand shot to cover her mouth, her other hand gripping Yang's tight. Yang squeezed back as best she could, but she was tuning out of the situation. That was the last day Yang remembered smiling. 

Closing the door behind her, Yang left the office. Yang was met with the sight of the crucifix hanging on the wall in the hallway. Her blank face fell into a frown, and then twisted into a scowl as she glared at the carved wood. “Some help you've been.” Yang moved to remove it, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She stumbled to the kitchen to get another beer, and watched the Bills game until she passed out on the couch. 

Yang woke up with the sun shining gently on her face. She knew she needed to fix the back gate today, but Yang knew it could wait. Yang grew up in this house and had helped Summer make little fixes to it all the time when growing up. She rolled out of her bed and walked to where she could hear her daughter playing in the living room. 

Taiyang was playing with her while Sesame Street was on in the background. Blake was in the kitchen finishing making eggs as a plate of bacon sat on the kitchen table. “Mommy's up!” Her daughter got up and ran to Yang as she scooped her up into her arms and lifted her into the air. Her daughter squealed with joy. 

“Not yet.” Blake said as she walked over to hand Yang a cup of coffee. Yang smiled at Blake and her daughter as she took a drink from the warm mug. Except, she couldn't feel the hot coffee pass her lips. She looked down into the mug and saw it was empty. She looked back at her wife, puzzled, but Blake was gone. Yang looked to her Daughter, but she was no longer in her arms. The house Yang grew up in began to fade away as Yang started screaming. 

Yang was still screaming as she fell off the couch. She was back in her apartment. The tv running late night re runs, the ticker at the bottom showing the Bills had lost. Yang drank from her beer that had sat out, needing something to prove she was awake here. The warm stale beer reassuring, as the numbness and loneliness settled back in.


	3. St. Joe Keeps Us Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up I'm super depressed cause the pandemic has wrecked my life, but I have more free time so I'm updating again on my most depressing story. Weird how that's the headspace I'm able to easily get into now, huh? well, maybe it will at least provide me some catharsis moving forward and keep all of my wonderful readers entertained. 
> 
> And for those of you who read my other stuff, I promise "A Surprisingly Decent Proposal" isn't dead. I had problems writing the next chapter, then I realized it was because I hadn't set it up properly, so now I'm reworking part's of the last chapter and how the overall plot was progressing. I'm hoping to figure that out soon and start updating, because narratively it is so close to being finished and I owe all of us some pay off to the fluff I've been peddling there. Asana for three might get updates, but it's always been more of a side project.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated! And I feel like I should say this now more than ever. If you're hurting right now because of the pandemic, a death of someone close, losing your job (heyo, I feel you there), a partner leaving you, or anything really, please talk to someone. A friend, a relative, a therapist (highly recommend them) please tell someone you're not okay. It's okay to not be okay and you're not a burden for talking to someone about it. 
> 
> Please stay safe everyone, and wash your hands.

Chapter 3: St. Joe Keeps Us Safe  
_"Well I spent my whole life saying I'd never need no one, but I think I might need you."_

Yang was done. For the last week, she hadn't left the apartment. She had enough booze to get her by and either ordered takeout or didn't eat. Hell, most days Yang didn't even turn the lights on, the light from the windows and the sound of the television were her only companions. Yang glanced up at the new holes in her drywall. She couldn't even remember making them, but they were fresh enough. It was time to go outside. 

The leaves scraped the cement walkway as Yang walked through the park. She closed her eyes and it felt like Blake was walking with her. Yang could almost feel her arm wrapped in hers, could almost smell her shampoo. Gods, how Yang missed those little things. But the shampoo was gone. Blake was gone. The baby was gone. Mom was gone. 

Yang opened her eyes and was surprised all the leaves had fallen already, but it had been awhile since she left the apartment. It was even longer since she had been to the park. There was a family playing nearby and Yang stopped to watch them, feeling like a voyeur into a life she fell short of achieving. 

Yang realized she still thought Blake would come back. It's why she hadn't left. She thought Blake would come back, save her from this misery, from herself. But Blake wasn't coming back. Yang looked at a payphone at the edge of the park and thought about calling Blake's cell. She had memorized the number a long time ago. It was one of the few things she always remembered. As Yang counted the change in her pocket, she saw a subway station with a line going for the LIRR. It was time to see Dad.

It took awhile, but Yang was in front of her parent's house. Summer's old Mustang was still sitting out front, covered up to protect it from the elements. They couldn't bear to move it after she passed. Yang avoided her gaze as she walked up the drive and knocked on the front door. Her father Taiyang, a muscular man with short messy hair as golden blond as Yang's and piercing blue eyes, answers the door. 

“Sunflower?” Taiyang takes one look at her and sees a dull ache in her lilac eyes and wraps his daughter up in a hug. Yang hesitantly puts her arms around her father and a few moments later he ushers her inside. 

As they sat in the kitchen and Taiyang poured them some coffee, Yang reflected how the house hadn't changed much. A few things were falling into slight disrepair, but nothing major. Dad was never quite as handy as Summer was. Summer just liked fixing things. She was always like that, from having fixed up and restored the Mustang out front, to making sure the paint was always kept touched up, to kissing her and Ruby's boo boos all better when they were kids. 

Taiyang had always been a man of faith though, and that hadn't changed since he lost his wife. The crucifix still hung up in the kitchen and the walls wore adorned with paintings of Jesus. They even had a few statues of saints. Yang could really only recognize the Infant of Prague anymore. It was supposed to keep them from going hungry, which was a nice sentiment with the appetite Yang had in her teenage years. 

He set down a mug in front of her and Yang flavored her coffee in her usual manner, two sugars and a drop of cream. She glanced out the window into the small backyard as she took her first sip, remembering when her and her father and her sister buried a card with the image of St. Joseph in a deep hole in the backyard. Dad said it was to help keep them safe, that as long as they were here, nothing bad would happen to them. Fat lot of good that did Summer. 

“So Yang, I always enjoy your company but what brings you by today? Usually you call before you come over.” Taiyang asked, concern flashing through his deep blue gaze. Yang almost broke right there, but kept herself composed enough. 

“I'm sorry, I know it's been tough since mom died and you don't need to hear anymore bad news.” Yang started to shut down again, light leaving her eyes even as the coffee warmed her. 

Taiyang took his daughter's hand. “You can tell me anything, Yang. I'm your father and I'm always here for you.” His smile was full of warmth and concern and Yang was powerless to stop herself anymore. 

“Dad, I'm breaking. I . . .” Yang struggled to find the words. “I can't find the light anymore after this year. Blake . . . Blake left me. A couple weeks ago.”

Before she realized what was happening, Taiyang was up from the table and wrapped her up in another hug. “Yang I'm so sorry.” Yang felt her eyes well up for the first time in weeks as she gripped his shirt. Taiyang just held her tighter. 

“Yang, look at me.” Yang wiped the tears from her eyes as best she could and looked up at her Dad. “I know we've never been this low before. We've lost a lot this year, but we're family. If you're hurt, then I'm hurt. I'm always here for you and I'm sorry Blake left. I'm sorry you felt like you had to hide it from me.” 

Yang couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Everything she held back over the last couple weeks came out as she sobbed into her father's stomach. Yang had always tried to be independent, but she needed this. She needed her dad. 

Yang's tears subsided after awhile and she found herself in a rare moment of clarity. Something wasn't right. All the drinking, reminiscing, and holes in the wall hadn't brought Blake back. “I've been waiting too long.” Yang managed to croak out. 

“I knew something was wrong, Sunflower. You hadn't called here in weeks. Maybe you should leave for a bit. Not my house, specifically, but you should go somewhere. Take a trip. Go do something. Here.” Taiyang moved out of his daughter's grasp and pulled a set of keys off a hook by the door that led to the garage and set them on the table in front of Yang. She looked up at him, puzzled. 

“Go.” He said, a warm, fatherly smile on his face. “Take Summer's car and go clear your head. Take a road trip somewhere and take as long as you need. And before you say anything, she'd want you to have it.” 

Yang took the keys in her hand and investigated them. They were begging her to take them. She could feel a spark of Summer in them, pulling her along. 

“Take the car and run for a bit Yang. Take the car and run”


End file.
